Page 53 of Beautiful Venom

“You’re shaking.”

“Shaking?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Your fear turns me on.”

He thrusts his leg between mine, forcing me to part my previously locked thighs. My eyes widen at the feel of his very thick, very hard cock, hot and heavy against my naked flesh.

Memories of being fucked by this very same cock makes me shudder. It doesn’t matter how long ago it happened. My body resurrects at the thought.

The other night, after he warned me off in that forest, I had a dream about him fucking me against a tree and woke up with my hand buried in my wet folds. I took a cold shower right after and promised to find another path and not get close to Kane again.

He’s dangerous.

And not because of what he’s capable of, but because of my reaction to him.

Because instead of being scared of him and the satanic organization he belongs to, all I keep thinking about is the blinding pleasure I felt in his ruthless arms.

Yes, fear still exists, but it’s definitely not the only emotion I have toward this man.

I clench my stomach and my thighs, trying to harden my resolve and not be affected.

A deep, rough noise leaves his throat.

“Stop moving. Unless you’re going to open your mouth and let me fuck your throat until I decorate these red lips with my cum.”

My pussy pulses and the body-tingling sensation I had after that dream rushes back to the surface.

“You’re sick,” I whisper, though the words could also be directed at myself.

“I’m well aware. Which is why I warned you. Over and over again.” He maneuvers his leg so that I’m sitting on his thigh. My dress bunches up to my waist, revealing my black panties.

Then he moves until his dick presses against my underwear, provoking deep pressure. I resist a moan. God, that feels so good.

“Andagain.” He rolls his hips and thrusts again.

Even though clothes separate us, my pussy clenches, demanding to be filled. I’ve never been sexually frustrated, but I think that’s exactly what’s happening right now.

“But you don’t do well with warnings, do you? You’re a little rebellious wildflower that thinks it can survive anywhere. But guess what?”

He drives his hips forward, harder, rubbing his clothed cock against my starved pussy as he holds my face with both hands, forcing my eyes to remain on his.

It’s a different invasion from the one below. He might be dry humping me, but his icy eyes…those are fucking my soul.

“I’m your winter, Dahlia. No flower can survive winter. Not even wildflowers.”

I grab onto both of his wrists as he thrusts into me with blinding precision, rubbing his cock and thigh against my sensitive clit. My back hits the door from his vicious power, and I feel the inexplicable need to grab harder for balance. To feel all of him plowing into me, igniting the sharp tingles of pleasure inside me.

God. I think I’m broken.

I thought I wanted gentle, caring, and a lot of prep to be aroused, but it turns out, I need rough, filthy, and completely unapologetic sex.

The fact that Kane takes what he wants without asking for permission makes me dizzy.

Hell, it makes me wetter.

“Lower your hands,” he orders in a rough voice.

I release his wrists and hold on to his waist beneath the jacket instead.

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